


if we're still alive

by ephemera (incognitajones)



Series: Asterisms [13]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 02:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12146991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incognitajones/pseuds/ephemera
Summary: Around him friends, comrades, lovers are greeting each other in a dozen languages and equally varied embraces, but Cassian weaves through all of them and keeps moving toward Jyn.





	if we're still alive

**Author's Note:**

> So **estherlyon** asked for post-Endor Rebelcaptain and instead of rainforest reunion sex in a hut, somehow my brain generated 2000 words of h/c... is anyone (but me) surprised at this point?

Cassian isn’t a fighter pilot or spec ops. He understands why he wasn’t on the front lines of the attack on the second Death Star. Still, half of the Rebellion’s forces committed to open battle while he was assigned elsewhere—Jyn fighting while he had no way of knowing what was happening except for terse official communiques—it ate under his skin like a parasite. The two days between victory at Endor and a message from her were the most dragging, gnawing anxiety he’s ever felt outside of long-term undercover ops. And he’s had to wait another week for her transport back to _Home One_ with the rest of the wounded.

Now that the hospital ship _Queen of Naboo_ has finally docked, the hangar is mobbed with medics and patients disembarking under their own power, in medical capsules, or on hoverchairs. Jyn is shorter than most of them, and slower at the moment too, so Cassian forces himself to stand still and wait, shifting back and forth on his feet and straining his neck to see over the crowd.

He almost misses her because he’s looking for a chair, not expecting her to be on foot. Then a flicker of brown hair crosses his vision and he sees her, half-hidden behind two Ithorians, limping stiff-legged on her new knee with a cane for balance. She spots him a second later and a bright flash of happiness illuminates her eyes.

Cassian feels himself smiling with his whole mouth—his whole face—for the first time in Force knows how long. He’s grinning so stupidly wide at the sight of her that it hurts, but he can’t repress it. He doesn’t even try. And as always when he sees Jyn after months apart, he’s torn between competing urges to curl himself around her and fall asleep, or to fuck her until neither of them can walk. 

But she’s recuperating from serious injuries, so the choice has been made for him. And just having her next to him tonight will be more than enough.

He calculates the line of least resistance and aims for a swift trajectory through the crowd. Around him friends, comrades, lovers are greeting each other in a dozen languages and equally varied embraces, but Cassian weaves through all of them and keeps moving toward Jyn. 

“Hey.” Her smile is almost as wide and bright as his. “Here I am.”

“There you are.” He rests one hand at the curve of her waist, pulls himself closer and kisses her. 

Brief, darting kisses, because he has to keep drawing back to stare at her: the fine lines engraved in her brow, the new scar on her chin, the wisps of hair falling into her eyes. Once he’s able to accept that she’s here—actually here, not just in his imagination—some of the tension leaks out of him and the tempo of their kiss slows and lengthens.

This is what he’s been starving for: her taste, the returning pressure of her lips under his, the way they fall deeper into each other’s gravity. She drops her cane and grabs his shoulders for leverage, flexing her fingers into the muscles there hard enough to make him wince, and he wraps his arms around her waist to steady her. He kisses the corners of her lips where a smile is lurking, she finds the point under his jaw that always makes him shiver.

When they pause to catch their breath, it might be a few minutes or a few hours later. However long it was, it’s not enough. Cassian is lightheaded and still ravenous for her touch. He trails his lips across her cheek, her ear, her hair, unable to pull away any farther.

The way Jyn tips forward and leans her weight on him tells him more about how badly hurt she is than she’ll ever admit. A deep breath expands in her lungs, pressing her body into his, and with a sigh her shoulders drop. He strokes his palm lightly up her spine and her muscles twitch under his hand. 

Cassian’s been so concerned with her replacement knee, he forgot about the burn on her back. “Are you okay?” 

Jyn turns her head to the side, flattening her cheek against his chest. “Yeah,” she mumbles into his shirt. “But I need to get off my feet. I still can’t put weight on the knee for very long.”

The thought of a bed and Jyn in combination rouses Cassian’s craving again. He becomes aware that he’s hard, and has been for a while. It always makes him greedy for her when she kisses him so deep and long. 

He draws back, a little ashamed of his insistent hunger when what she needs is rest, but the longing to touch her still hums under his skin, making it buzz at her nearness. He pushes her bangs out of her face and presses his lips to her forehead. “Can you walk just a little bit farther? My quarters are close.”

 

As soon as they’re inside, Jyn drops down onto the bed with a long sigh. Cassian bends over to unlace his boots, and by the time he stands up to shrug his jacket off, she’s naked.

He stands there with his arms trapped halfway out of his sleeves, blinking like a porg.

“Clothes off, Cassian. Hurry up.” She props her chin on one hand and beckons impatiently at him with the other. 

He laughs out of sheer joy at the fact that she’s here to tell him exactly what to do. “Feeling a little bossy, Sergeant?”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet, Captain.” She leans back on her elbows, and the strong muscled lines of her body are thrown into relief, a lovely contrast to the sweet curves of her breasts. Cassian’s throat goes dry. 

“Stop staring at me and get naked.”

Cassian starts shedding clothes again, but the brand new, livid scar on her knee is a reminder that anything more athletic than sleeping isn’t a good idea at the moment. “Jyn, you’ve just had major surgery. You can’t bend your leg or lie on your back—”

“Cassian.” Her voice is husky and demanding. “Do you think we can't work around that?” She rolls onto her stomach and tips her head back over her shoulder, looking up at him provocatively through her eyelashes. “Get over here and fuck me.” 

He looks at the raised pink lacework of fresh burn marks scattered over her back and swallows back the urge to ask whether she’s sure. Jyn knows what she wants and he doesn’t have the willpower to keep resisting her when he wants it just as much. So he kneels on the bed and slips his hand between her thighs, tracing delicately along the crease between them. Her skin is already warm and sticky, her breath catches on a soft throaty moan. He pushes forward and drags his fingers slowly back, pressing up into the wet heat of her. 

Her head is still turned back over her shoulder and she smiles at him, a thin curl of mischief. He presses her knees apart with his and slides his cock between her legs, rubbing slick against her—close, so close, but not quite where she wants him. “Stop _teasing_ , Cassian,” she pants, arching her back and trying to push herself fully onto his cock. She closes her eyes and tosses her head, and he's already burning with the need to be inside her.

Both of them are breathing harsher, whimpering with each slow stroke that barely misses, when at last he hits the right angle and slips inside her. Her mouth softens, opening wide in a gape of mindless pleasure as he pushes in slow and thick and full.

Cassian holds his breath, desperately clinging to his self control. She’s so tight around him and he needs a moment to adjust to being so thoroughly engulfed. Winding his hand into her hair, he pulls it to the side so that her neck is bared. He tastes the skin just behind her ear, nips and sucks until dull red marks bloom, carefully avoiding the new scars trailing over her back because he doesn't know how sensitive they are. 

She tilts her hips up, shifts along his length, barely, and a raw noise tears out of his throat. His hips grind against her without a conscious decision and she buries her head in the crook of her elbow and moans.

Jyn’s not helpless—never helpless—but she’s fragile beneath him, more yielding than usual. Cassian is filled with a frantic need to make it good for her, so good. Her hair still smells faintly of bacta, and he buries his nose in it, trembling slightly at the chances they both took, the odds they defeated to bring them back together in this bed. 

He wants to kiss her, but from this angle it’s hard to reach anywhere but the curves of her shoulder and neck. He mouths clumsily at them. “I missed you,” he confesses and the draft of his words raises goosebumps across her bare shoulder. He seals his mouth to her skin to keep more desperate words from escaping him.

Jyn arches her back and a whimper breaks out of her. “Harder. _Please_ ," she demands, not sounding very pleading. 

He can feel her every muscle tense, desperately straining to come. Contrary, he slows the rocking of his hips, wanting to stretch that suspended moment of bliss out longer and longer for her. He has to kiss her properly. Wrapping his hand around her throat, feeling her pulse flutter under his palm, he tips her chin up with his thumb and strains forward to catch as much of her mouth as he can. Their lips clash together in hungry, consuming kisses interrupted by short gasping inhalations. 

Jyn drops her head back down to her arm, panting, and her teeth dent the skin of her bicep in frustration. She rocks her hips back against him, trying to take him deeper. “Cassian, if you don’t fuck me harder right now, I will _end_ you.” 

Instead, he slows down even more. He doesn’t want to crush her, so he tries to support his weight mostly on one elbow while he works his other hand between her hips and the bed. She’s so wet, and when he touches her he can feel himself moving, his fingertips brushing his slick cock as it drives into her. The sensation is so overwhelming his brain shorts out for a second. Jyn makes a helpless, choked noise that goes straight to the base of his spine and spurs him to finally snap his hips into hers, harder and harder. 

She arches her back even deeper and squeezes her thighs together, clamping tight with a moan. Her hands fist in the bedding, her body wraps around him in long, slow waves as she comes. At last her shaking muscles go limp and she melts boneless into the bed. 

Cassian curls over and rests his forehead on her back, trying to get even closer, losing himself in the slide of her flesh. His skin throbs, his hips pulse against hers raggedly as his body breaks out of his control, leaves him racing to catch up. He presses his mouth to the shallow dip between her shoulder blades and her name escapes in a hoarse cry, muffled against her skin. Jyn clenches tight around him once more and the fierce grip of possession—knowing that he belongs to her for the rest of his days—pulls his orgasm out of him by the roots. 

He passes out for a second, or maybe his brain reboots. His vision goes black and then snaps back into focus on the individual strands of Jyn’s hair stuck to her neck in sweaty loops. His arms are shaking. He drops to his elbows, gasping, barely managing to keep most of his weight off of Jyn. He shifts to one side and collapses beside her, still dazed. 

She rolls onto her side and curls her arms protectively in front of her chest. Cassian wonders if she’s comfortable. “How do you need to sleep?” His voice is faint, barely audible in his own ears. He lifts a heavy hand and strokes the hair out of her eyes.

She draws her knees up stiffly into a right angle, wincing, and shrugs her top shoulder. “This is okay.”

He grabs his pillow and lifts her right leg up, placing the cushion carefully between her knees for some extra padding. She sighs, her breathing perforated with tiny sobbing hitches. Tears standing in her cloudy green eyes make them shine like wet agate. 

Cassian panics.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, cupping her cheek in his hand. “Should we check in with a medroid? Do you need a painkiller?”

“No, you idiot. I just—you just—I’m happy, okay?” She sniffs, her nose twitching as she tries to hold back more tears. Her voice shrinks even softer. “It took me off guard. I didn’t let myself think about this. I couldn’t.”

He understands. After all, he’s spent the last four years shoving thoughts of the future out a mental airlock whenever they intruded. It was hard enough to hold on to what he could have of Jyn during wartime, without letting himself be distracted by wondering what they might choose if they were both still alive when peace came—if it ever came.

Yet here they are, miraculously: alive and (mostly) whole. There’s still work to do, still fighting to be done. But maybe they have time, now, to let themselves dream.

He thumbs the corner of her eye, brushing the hint of moisture away, and kisses her again, with a different kind of intensity. This slow, lush kiss isn't urgent, but it’s deep and patient, filled with the hope that they can take their time. There will be time.

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another title from Metric ("Help I'm Alive" again).


End file.
